


it's getting late now

by sandyk



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I like that story," John says. He doesn't smile when he says it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's getting late now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grey_Bard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grey_Bard/gifts).



> Story contains spoiler for the first book of Piers Anthony's Xanth series. No profit garnered ever, all characters not mine. Thanks to sfa for beta.

Carter sits with John for no reason she wants to explain to anyone. There is nothing but chaos around them, people running, fire trucks speeding by. "Everything will be okay," he says. "But you need to wait here." She's heard that before.

She says, "You know, I've been thinking about this book I read in high school. Fantasy, I don't know why. Not my usual, but I liked it. Maybe because it was a mystery along with the fantasy and bad puns. See, it's about this land where everyone has a magic power. If you don't, you get exiled or something. I haven't read it since, you understand. And some people had the stupidest power. One could turn his pee purple, that part I remember. Our protagonist, he has no power he's aware of or can see. But it turns out he's one of the most powerful of all, because his power is not to be affected by magic. So his power manipulates the world around and constantly protects him by making sure no one knows what he can do. Not even him until the end."

"I like that story," John says. He doesn't smile when he says it.

xxxx

Carter has a secret affection for country music. Specifically Mary Chapin Carpenter. She used to sing songs to her son, to soothe him to sleep. She wonders how that looks on whatever dossier people have compiled on her. She wonders if it even shows up, is it a weakness? A quirk? A way in?

One day after she saves Harold from being shot, she flips through the radio and hears a contest to win tickets to see Mary Chapin Carpenter. 5th caller wins. There's no way she can win. She looks at her phone, smiles to herself. She calls and the deejay laughs at her, says she is somehow the 5th caller. "It's the weirdest thing!"

She takes her son, despite his extensive protests. But when Mary Chapin Carpenter sings Come On Come On, she notices him singing along. Like he remembers. It's the kind of amazing night that could carry her for years.

xxxx

"I liked that story you told me," John says.

"You already told me that," Carter says.

"I just wanted to let you know," John says, but he looks at the security cam. She hates that feeling of being caught between layers. It reminds her of the worst of the army. It makes her think of rot. She does not like being involved with rot.

John turns his dead eyes back to her. "I'm sorry," he says. Like he can see her thoughts.

"I appreciate that," she says.

xxxx

Carter likes some country music. She reads People magazine whenever she can.

She will never in her life have any roast beef as delicious as her grandfather's, so she doesn't even try. She orders something else in restaurants and doesn't even try to cook it for her son.

"You could try," her son says. "It's just a recipe, right? Maybe it's on google."

"That would be nice," she says. "Snap your fingers, type really fast, and the dead rise to make you dinner."

"Mom, don't be so morbid, God." He's a good boy, though. He tries to google it, bothers her mother to get at the secret.

She almost wishes for some weird coincidental intervention, an email from nowhere. But it isn't coming.

xxxx

She hums to herself, on her way home. The way she thinks about it, she lives a pretty simple life. Raise her son to be a good person, keep him safe, do what she could for every mother's child. Sure, there are complications. John, Fusco, Mr. Finch. Messages from somewhere and nowhere, FBI, CIA, NSA. "But no one gets to play God," she says.

The light turns green like someone saying "right on."

xxxx

John buys her a muffin. "Donuts are a cliche," he says.

"Thanks," she says. It's bran and probably vegan. She wrinkles her nose at it, but she's starving. "Next time I'll take a donut, though."

"I had a reason to visit that bakery," he says.

"Oh, God," she says. "Okay, tell me what you need."

The next day, Fusco brings her a donut. "Buy one get one free this morning." He looks so thrilled offering it to her.

It's a shot in the dark. She knows she's being silly. But she says it anyway. "I hope tomorrow there's a two for one grandfather's pot roast."

Fusco chortles. She doesn't think he's being mean.

xxxx

"I would be scared," she says to John. "Sorry, I mean, I was thinking of that story I told you, the book. I would be scared if I were that guy, who had the power. It's a force outside him, deciding what's best for him. How do you know if your power has what are your actual best interests at heart? Plus, the things that I myself thought were in my best interest when I was 20." She laughs. "Suffice to say, I was dead wrong. How can your power be smarter than you are?"

"Maybe that was in the next book," John says.

"Yeah, it wasn't that great a book, though. I guess I'll never know."

John nearly smiles this time.

xxxx

She makes her son find the book, and it's a whole series.She can't get through the first one. It's too fantastical and trivial. She isn't 15 anymore. Plus, there was 34 of them now.

Taylor loves every one of them. She tells herself it's good he's reading books.

Fusco never brings her pot roast. She can remember it perfectly, the thin cut and the way it melted in her mouth. Just enough fat to taste and some other mysterious spices. Someone had to know. Whoever it was that knew just wasn't finding her.

She listens to that Mary Chapin Carpenter album a lot when she's home. It's still one of her favorites. Come on, come on. It makes her feel safe and full.


End file.
